Between Two Tribes
by Mickey3
Summary: Jack wakes up alone and unarmed. Stripped of his gear and unable to remember where he is or how he got there, Jack has to figure out how to escape and rescue his team. Jack whump! Rating is for language.


**Between Two Tribes  
By Mickey**

Completed: 3/25/2008

Total Word Count: 11,080

Author's Note: Written for the Jackfic 2007 Jackficathon. The Plot Bunny is at the end of the fic. Takes place sometime after "Solitudes", but before "There But for the Grace of God". Id like to say thank you to whoever submitted this bunny, and I hope it meets your expectations! Many thanks to Annie, and Maretta for betaing this for me.

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Consciousness came back to him slowly. He lifted his arm to rub his eyes, but it felt more like a heavy club than a natural appendage and the movement took longer than it should have. Finally, he managed to lift one hand to his head and used it to rub the bleariness from his eyes. Or tried to anyway. Against his better judgment, he sat up.

Unlike the gradual return of consciousness, the pain came crashing in on him like a monstrous wave on an unprotected shore. Nausea and vertigo came in hot on pain's heels. Deciding it would probably be best to ride it out instead of fighting them, Jack lay back down. He purposely took slow, deep breaths, forcing his body to relax. He'd choked back the bile that rose in his throat. He so did not want to puke all over himself. After several minutes, he risked opening his eyes again. Blinking rapidly, he finally managed to clear his eyes. Which was when he realized that his eyes weren't the problem. The room was dark. Not pitch black, but dark enough to make it difficult to see.

Slowly, Jack checked himself for injuries. He wiggled his fingers first. Nothing broken there. He lifted his left arm and flexed it at the elbow. So far, so good. He lifted his right arm and winced. Okay, that hurt a little, but it wasn't too bad. Jack slowly lifted his left hand to his throbbing head. The left side seemed fine. The right side, not so much. There was a small cut by his right eye and he was sure he had a lovely shiner to go with it. Ouch! Along with what he was sure was a spectacular bruise on his right cheek. He lifted both hands, his arms were finally starting to lose the lethargic feeling, and set them gently on his collarbones. He winced again as he hit a particularly sore spot midway down the left side of his chest, but he was almost positive nothing was broken. He let his hands slip down to his sides. No apparent damage there. Time to test his legs. He flexed his left leg first. A little sore, but again, nothing felt broken. His right leg was a different story. Pain shot up and down his leg as he bent his knee. Jack cursed as he gently let his leg rest on the ground again. Toes next. He was relieved to find both that his feet didn't appear to be injured and that he still had his boots.

That's when it hit him; all he'd been left was his pants, t-shirt, long sleeve BDU shirt, and boots. His Tac Vest, backpack, and weapons were gone. Whispering a prayer to any deity that might be listening, he checked for the small knife he always stashed in his boot. He sighed in relief when his hand brushed the hilt. There was no need for it just yet, so he left it in its sheath.

Physical inventory done, he figured it was time to try sitting up again. This time he took it slowly. First, he propped himself up on his elbows. The weight caused some discomfort in his right arm, but barely warranted a one on ole Doc Fraiser's pain scale. The left side of his chest caused a little more pain, but it still wasn't bad enough to stop him from pushing himself up further. Finally, he managed to sit all the way up. The pain in his chest increased again, but only marginally. Another string of expletives streamed from him as he looked at his legs. There was a growing puddle of blood under his right leg. It covered most of his thigh as well.

Several minutes later, he braved lifting his hands off the ground and to the thigh wound. It was a minor relief that he managed to stay upright instead of instantly falling over. The thought struck him that this would probably be easier if he could brace himself. Luckily, he was only about two feet away from a wall. Moving made everything hurt more, but he simply gritted his teeth and ignored the relatively minor aches, taking care not to jostle his leg anymore than absolutely necessary. That task accomplished, he went about tending his wound. Very carefully, Jack pulled his long sleeve shirt off. He set it on the ground next to him then pulled out the knife. He picked up the shirt again, popped off the buttons, and began to cut it into strips. Jack took one of the strips and folded it to use as a pad. He set the makeshift pad on the wound and used another strip to tie it around his thigh. He bit back a scream as he pulled the knot tight.

He leaned his head against the wall as he caught his breath. Eventually, the pain eased and he raised his head. The cut on his head wasn't bad enough to warrant bandaging, so he didn't bother, although, he would have liked to have at least been able to clean it up a bit. That wasn't going to happen. The bastards, whoever they were, while kind enough to leave his belt, had taken his canteen. Which meant he also had no water to clean his wounds with, or to drink.

Deciding he'd spent enough time sitting on his ass and that he really needed to get the lay of the land, Jack attempted to get up. That was a big mistake. An intense bolt of pain shot from his head down to his injured leg. His stomach roiled and the world spun at a crazy angle and sickening speed. He managed to turn his head just far enough to the side to avoid puking all over himself. Once his stomach was emptied of its meager contents, Jack sat back again and leaned his head against the cool wall. Exhaustion over took him and he slipped into oblivion again.

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PART 2

This time when Jack awoke, a few rays of light were beginning to peek through the windows. During the short time he'd been conscious earlier, something had nagged at him but he couldn't nail down what it was. He concentrated on what he did know. He was Colonel Jack O'Neill of the United States Air Force. Father to one deceased son, Charlie, and he _really_ didn't want to think about that just then. Ex-husband of Sara O'Neill, who he'd been surprised to learn, had kept his last name. Again, not a thought he wanted to dwell on at the moment. He had over twenty years in with the Air Force, about ten of that with Special Ops units. He was currently a part of the Stargate Program, stationed at Cheyenne Mountain under the command of General George Hammond. He was the leader of SG-1, the programs most eclectic group of individuals to ever comprise a military team and the front line expedition team.

And that had been what was bothering him so much. He was alone. Jack resisted the urge to panic. Most likely, the others were merely being held somewhere else. Hopefully, close by. Possibly, they had managed to escape and he was the only one sitting with his ass on the floor of a cell, or shack, or whatever he was in, with a hole in his memory, and his leg.

While his headache had eased a bit, his leg still throbbed unmercifully. *Well, sitting here on your ass all day isn't going to accomplish anything, is it?*

With that thought, and with some difficulty, Jack pushed himself to his feet. Once standing, he leaned his head on the wall to catch his breath and let the dizziness pass. The wall, he realized, was made out of wood. Jack raised his head and turned to lean his back against the wall. The room was small, about nine, maybe ten, feet square by Jack's estimate. There was one small window on each wall. He guessed each window was, maybe, three feet square. They were low enough that he could have climbed out- . . . if not for the bars. The door was also made out of wood, which would be a good thing if he had to break it down. The fact that sunlight was coming through each window let him know he was in some kind of shack and not just a room in a building. The roof seemed to be made out of straw, or something like it anyway, and he really, _really_ hoped it wouldn't rain anytime soon.

He was willing to go out on a limb and speculate that his abductors were a primitive people, or close enough to it. His memory was still foggy as all hell though, so he couldn't really be sure. The only thing he could remember was that Daniel had been very excited about meeting one of the local tribes. Or was this a return visit? Jack had the distinct feeling they'd been to the planet and met the locals before. Or other locals, anyway. Not the ones who had kidnapped him. The last thing he could remember clearly was Hammond yelling at Daniel, who was late again, to double-time it. Then they had all stepped through the gate. Everything else, including the gate address of the planet they were on, was a complete blank. He cursed the huge gap in his memory.

Deciding it was time to brave putting some weight on his leg, and needing to get the lay of the place before his abductors came back (and he was sure they would soon), Jack slowly pushed himself away from the wall and put his full weight on his legs. When he didn't immediately fall to the ground, he took a tentative step forward.

It hurt.

A lot.

But not enough to deter him from doing what he had to do. He limped over to the window by the door and chanced a look out of it. Yup. Definitely primitive. As far as he could see, there was only one guard. The lone guard was wearing what looked like animal skin pants and nothing else. He was holding a bow in his right hand, a quiver full of arrows on his back, but that appeared to be his only weapon. Jack guessed the man to be about five foot eight, maybe five nine. He was thin, but not overly so. Jack looked as far as he could to either side and in front, but he couldn't see any other buildings that looked like prison cells, just like the one he was in. He limped to the back wall and looked out that window.

Bingo! Several yards behind him, and spread several yards apart, were more "prisons". Jack wasn't sure how many there were (he could only see six, but that didn't mean there weren't more), or which ones his team were in, assuming they'd also been captured, but at least he knew where to start looking when he finally managed to break out. And he would break out. Of that, he had no doubt.

The throbbing in Jack's leg became a stabbing pain so he decided to sit down and give it a break. He turned and leaned his back against the wall then slid slowly down it. His butt hit the ground with a soft thud and he sighed heavily. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Jack let his mind drift, hoping it would help him remember what had happened. He vaguely remembered pulling something, a dart maybe, from his neck. He was sure whatever drug had been used to knock him out was affecting his memory. It was also highly likely that the concussion he was pretty sure he had could also be affecting his memory.

The sound of a door slamming made Jack sit upright with a jerk. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. He glared at the three men who entered the room. Two of the men wore the same clothing as the guard he'd seen earlier, the third man had a headband on that was covered in what looked like sequins and shiny stones. Jack could tell by the way he carried himself, and by the headgear, that he was a leader of some kind. Sparkles made a motion with his hand and said something that just sounded like a grunt to Jack, and his buddies walked over to Jack. They each grabbed an arm, and dragged Jack to the middle of the room then dropped him to his knees. He couldn't bite back the groan that escaped him as his knees connected with the hard floor, sending a jolt of pain through both knees. He closed his eyes against the pain that flared through the wound in his left leg. The two men held his shoulders firmly, keeping him from moving. Not that he was putting up much of a resistance, not yet anyway.

Sparkles asked Jack something in a language he couldn't understand. Jack responded with the "you _really_ expect me to understand what you just said" look he usually reserved for Carter when she went off on one of her long-winded, techno babble filled tears. Sparkles frowned. He waited a minute longer then asked his question again. To Jack, it just sounded like gibberish. He shrugged. "I have no clue what you're saying there, Sparkles, or whatever your name is. No sprekinsi . . . whatever language you're speaking. Wanna try again? In English, maybe?" He was sure Daniel could figure out the language, but for better or worse, Daniel wasn't with him right now.

He may not have understood the words, but Sparkles certainly caught the smart-ass attitude behind them. He lashed out and backhanded Jack across the mouth.

Jack spat out blood and glared at him.

Sparkles returned the look with equal malice. He glared at Jack for several minutes, neither man breaking eye contact, before he finally spoke again.

Jack was sure he was asking something different this time, but still didn't have a freaking clue what the other man was saying. Not wanting to risk another injury or hit to the head, he bit back his retort this time, and simply stared blankly at his captor.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the man grunted in disgust. He waved his arm and said something to his men. They released Jack and he put his arms out to break his fall. He gasped then clamped his mouth shut, preventing any further sound from escaping his lips. Sparkles turned and left without another word, and his two goons followed close behind him. Jack stayed where he was for a few minutes trying to fight back the pain and nausea. After a few minutes, he was fairly sure he could move without puking. He pushed back onto his butt and scooted back towards the wall.

Jack had just started to fall into a light sleep when the door slammed open again. Thinking they were back to try to interrogate him again, he braced himself for the pain he knew would come. Surprisingly, there was only one guard and he didn't advance on Jack. He walked towards the middle of the room then stopped, set a plate and a cup on the floor, and then turned and left as wordlessly as he'd entered. Jack was surprised the guard had come in alone and unarmed. He supposed that, in his current condition, they didn't consider him a, much of a threat. Their mistake. He was leery about eating alien food, especially with some of SG-1's past experiences. He shook his head to clear his mind, causing him to wince at the pain the movement caused, as an image of Kynthia and her "wedding" cake came to him. But, Jack knew he'd need to eat to keep up his strength if he was going to find his friends, break them all out of this dump, and get them all back home safely.

He picked up the plate and sniffed it suspiciously. There was what appeared to be some kind of potato, green things he assumed were vegetables, some kind of meat, and a chunk of bread. The meat looked and smelled a bit like beef. He tasted that first, taking a small, cautious bite. It certainly didn't taste like it came from a cow, but it wasn't bad. A little bland maybe, but not bad. Jack slid his food, and his drink, which turned out to be water, back to the wall and leaned against it again. He ate and drank slowly so as to not make himself sick. The bread was a little stale, but the potato and green things were actually pretty good. When he finished his meal, he set the empty plate and cup aside and leaned his head back against the wall. He'd sleep for a few hours, then, when it got dark, he'd make his move.

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PART 3

Jack looked up into the control room and gave the general an "a little help here" look.

The general nodded and a second latter his voice boomed over the PA. "Doctor Jackson, your presence is required in the gate room immediately."

Jack sighed in frustration and resigned acceptance. Daniel Jackson was rarely ever on time. A fact that he was sure would never change. No matter how much Jack tried to drill it in to his geeky friend the importance of being on time. He looked up at General Hammond again and shrugged.

Hammond was beginning to look pissed. "On the double, Doctor."

At just that moment, the doors opened and Daniel came running into the gate room coming to a skidding stop in front of his commander and friend.

Shaking his head and smiling, Jack remarked, "About time." He looked up to the control room and gave Hammond his usual half-assed salute, turned and walked up the ramp. General Hammond's usual call of, "God speed," was the last thing he heard as he disappeared through the Stargate, his team close behind him, and with Teal'c watching their sixes.

"Crap!" Jack bellowed as the arrow pierced his thigh. He grunted as he hit the ground and fired another burst from his MP5. He grabbed the arrow with one hand close to his leg then used his other hand to break the shaft of the arrow leaving only a small piece protruding from his leg. Tempting as it was to pull the damn thing out, he knew it wouldn't be a smart thing to do. He struggled to his feet and fired off another burst.

He was running, sort of, and yelling at the others as he trailed behind them, "Get your asses back through that gate now, god damn it!"

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Jack woke with a jerk. He shook his head, trying to clear the lingering sleepiness then winced at the pain that shot through the back of his skull. Okay, so that was how he got the leg wound, but he still wasn't clear on how it had happened or why or what they were even doing on this damned planet in the first place. It also didn't explain why his head hurt or why his memory was so scrambled. Although, he supposed it was possible the arrow was dipped in some kind of poison or drug or . . . something.

He muttered under his breath as he forced himself to his feet and stretched his aching muscles. His head, mercifully, wasn't pounding anymore, but had subsided to a dull ache. His arm was still a little sore and his ribs still, mildly, protested any sudden movement. He limped to the front window. The sun was just beginning to set. Jack estimated he had about thirty minutes before it got dark enough for him to attempt an escape. He glanced around as much as the small window would allow. There was still only one guard as far as he could see. Good. That would make it easier to implement his plan. Marginally.

Actually, Jack didn't really have a plan per se. He intended to, somehow, get the guard to come into his cell (preferably without alerting his buddies that anything was going on) then kill him. He _really_ didn't relish the idea of killing the young man, but realized he didn't have a choice. He didn't have a rope to tie the guard up with or a rag of any kind to gag him with. It was, unfortunate, but necessary to kill him. He couldn't risk just knocking the guy out and having him wake up before Jack could rescue his team and get them all home, preferably in one piece.

Then the guard turned and Jack muttered a curse. Crap, crap, crap! He was just a kid. He couldn't be more than sixteen, seventeen tops. Crap! Much as Jack hated what he'd have to do, this new fact didn't dissuade him. If Jack simply knocked him out, there would be nothing to stop the guard from alerting his buddies as soon as he came around. Once the guard was dead, he'd make his way to the cells behind him, locate his teammates, free them, and then they'd all high tail it back to the gate, escape and live happily ever after. Then he'd bury the death of another kid by his hands in that very, very deep, dark place in his mind where he kept all the other despicable things he'd done in his life.

Jack closed his eyes against an unexpected, and unwanted flashback to another mission gone wrong. This one had happened over twelve years ago in Afghanistan. He rubbed his eyes with his palms, trying to push away the image of another scrawny teenage boy dying by his hand. His opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, and briefly wondered if he'd ever be able to forget the sound of the boy's neck snapping. He closed his eyes for a few more seconds then opened them again and forced his mind back to the present and the task at hand.

If only it would really be that easy. Jack knew it never worked that way. Not for SG-1 anyway. Good ole Murphy seemed to pretty much follow SG-1 everywhere they went. In the approximately ten months they had been a team, he could count on one hand, with fingers to spare, how many of their missions had actually gone off as planned. Being the front line team, he fully expected SG-1 to get the bulk of the most dangerous missions, but for crying out loud did couldn't they catch a _freaking break_ every once in a while? He didn't try to figure out why Mister Murphy seemed to have it out for his team anymore, or try to anticipate every tiny little thing that could possibly go wrong. He did, however, make damn sure his team was fully prepared before each mission.

As much as Carter, and especially Daniel, had bitched about his training schedule, they were necessary. Well, Daniel bitched. Carter was too well disciplined to bitch, she'd actually been pretty eager to get started when she'd found out what he had in mind. She would just, occasionally, drop a few not so subtle hints that, while she was learning a lot during their training sessions, she still had other work at the SGC that she was required to get done, and that she needed time to work on them too.

There were times when SG-1 would go a week to ten days without a mission. During those times he set up training exercises ranging from games of capture the flag to paintball and an some training scenarios he'd picked up during his special ops days. He also, much to Daniel's displeasure, spent hours at the firing range with the scientist teaching him how to fire everything from the Berretta to the MP5's to the Goa'uld staff weapons. He'd recently had Teal'c and Carter begin teaching Daniel basic hand-to-hand combat with Jack himself watching on occasion. He'd even given Daniel a few lessons himself. All the training was finally starting to pay off though. Carter was becoming more comfortable with her role on the team, and confident in herself, and was beginning to act more like a proper second in command of a combat team. Daniel could actually hit the broad side of a barn with the MP5 now, and was actually a pretty good shot with his Berretta. Teal'c was becoming more integrated into the team and was also beginning to accept Carter as, if not a leader, at least as a capable warrior who deserved his respect.

It had been rough at first. Daniel had protested vehemently that he was an archeologist and a linguist not a soldier, and that there was "no way in _hell_" he was going to carry a gun much less fire one. After Jack had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he'd have Daniel's archeological ass off SG-1 faster than he could say artifact (the look on his face must have convinced Daniel that he was dead serious), his protests had died down to occasional grumbling. Carter had also given him some flack at one point. He'd set up some of the scenarios specifically to test her ability to keep cool under intense pressure, and to see how well she could handle commanding two non-military team members who may not be as willing to follow her as a trained airmen would. Jack needed to see if she could handle being in charge if anything ever happened to him. She was to used to being in Washington, surrounded by egg heads and doing whatever it was that egg heads did. Sure, she was skilled at hand-to-hand combat in a controlled environment, but she had little _real_ combat experience. He wanted to rattle her cage a bit and see how she'd react.

She was disciplined enough to not say anything in front of Daniel and Teal'c, but she had really flipped off on him one day about two weeks into the training. She stayed behind when Daniel and Teal'c had left, accusing him of being sexist and intentionally setting her up to fail. He'd let her blow off steam and then chuckled under his breath as she'd stormed off, pissed that he hadn't exactly denied her accusations nor had he confirmed them. A few days later, an extremely embarrassed Captain had come to his office to apologize and had fully expected some kind of punishment for her out burst. She'd been surprised to hear that none was coming. Apparently, she'd thought about what Jack was really doing and realized he was only trying to help her. She'd calmed down considerably after that and the training sessions went much more smoothly.

Jack turned around and leaned against the wall then slid down it. He pulled a scrap of his shirt from the pocket he'd stuffed the strips in and laid it on his uninjured leg. Gritting his teeth, he removed the strip he was using to hold the makeshift pad on and set it next to the clean strip. Some blood had soaked through onto it. _Very_ carefully, he pulled the pad off and was relieved to see that the bleeding had stopped. He poked at it gently and was glad to see that it seemed to be starting to scab over, or at least it didn't cause it to start bleeding again. Jack tossed the blood soaked pad into the closest corner then folded the clean one and placed it over his wound. Not knowing how long it would be before he could get proper medical care, and not wanting to waste any of his "bandages", Jack used the slightly bloody strip to hold the new pad in place.

Jack lifted his arm to check the time and cursed as he realized the bastards had even taken his watch. His watch for crying out freaking loud! What did they really expect him to be able to do with that?

As he waited for night to fall, he thought back more on their early days as a team. The "team nights" Jack had instituted shortly after he'd started the training sessions, had also helped him get acclimated to life with humans, and had helped them to bond as a team and become friends. He was slightly surprised to realize that he did count these three people as some of his closest friends. In the relatively short time that he'd known them, he'd become quite fond of the three people who made up his very unusual, and highly irregular, team. He really enjoyed introducing Earth stuff to Teal'c. Who'd have thunk that, of all things, his alien friend would become obsessed with "Star Wars" and "Harry Potter"?! Oh, and donuts. Can't forget the donuts. Man, did Teal'c love those things. Jack was sure Teal'c had yet to met a donut he didn't like.

Finally, it was dark enough for Jack to make his move. He grunted as he pushed himself upright and realized that he still hadn't worked out how he was going to get the guard into his cell without calling any unwanted attention to himself. Luckily, the he didn't need to. The guard had apparently heard his groaning as he'd risen. He pushed the door open cautiously then stepped inside. Jack struck with lightning speed. He grabbed the young man, covering his mouth so he couldn't scream, and dragged him fully into the cell. With one quick motion, he snapped the other man's neck then lowered his limp body to the floor. And there was another kid dead by his hand. Knowing he was working on borrowed time, Jack pushed that thought aside (he'd deal with that later, or never) and grabbed the young man's knife then slipped quietly out the door making sure to shut it as he left.

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PART 4

He was in full on, hard-assed, take no prisoners, Special Ops colonel mode now. Jack moved silently and stayed in the darkest spots as he made his way towards one of the cells. There was a light on, candles most likely by the way the light was flickering, in one of them. He knew he would really feel them later when the adrenalin rush was gone and they were all home safe and sound, but for now he ignored all the aches and pains. In less than a minute, he was at the cell.

Cautiously, Jack peeked into the window. He resisted the urge to shout when he saw what was happening. Carter was lying on a bed, her long sleeve shirt was missing, and the collar of her t-shirt was ripped. Her lip was bloody and she looked thoroughly pissed. There were three guards in her cell, all with their backs to Jack. Suddenly, she lashed out with her left leg, catching one of her attackers in the crotch. He dropped like a sack of rocks. *Way to go, Carter!*

Jack had found out early on that Captain Samantha Carter was a hell of a lot tougher than she appeared, despite being a scientist. He had never had a problem with women in combat, regardless of what Carter had first thought. His problem was with scientists. They tended to be weak (physically, and mentally in some cases), whiny, bossy, and absent-minded. All things that could get someone killed in a combat situation. Carter, thankfully, was none of those things.

Carter might be a genius and capable of defending herself, but she was no match against three strong men, not in her position anyway. Especially since one of them looked like he had arms made of small tree trunks. Deciding he'd seen enough, Jack made his way to the door. *The locals aren't too bright,* Jack thought. *They left the door unlocked. Good for me.* Then again, their "locks" were nothing more than a rope tied to a latch on the door and the wall beside it. He just prayed the door didn't make any noise when he opened it. Thankfully, it didn't.

The attacker Carter had kicked was struggling to his feet. The smaller one had launched himself at Carter and was trying desperately to hold onto her flailing arms. The larger man had barely managed to avoid a kick to his own groin. He managed to grab and pin her legs to the bed. Carter locked eyes with Jack as he entered the room. She gave no indication to her attackers that anything had changed.

Jack knew he had to take the bigger man out first. He removed the knife from his boot and moved quickly. He slid up silently behind the larger man, put one hand over his mouth, and used the one with the knife to slit his throat. In seconds, he was on the man Carter had kicked. He dispatched that man in a matter of seconds then turned his attention to the third man, who was so focused on restraining Carter's still flailing arms that he didn't notice what had happened to his partners. He never knew what hit him, and in a matter of seconds, was lying on the ground in a growing pool of his own blood. Just like his friends.

"Sir!" Carter looked up at her commanding officer. Jack could see she was very shocked. He couldn't really blame her; after all he had just taken out two grown men half his age without even breaking a sweat. He was also sure he saw some recrimination in hers eyes at the brutality of his acts. He was pretty sure he knew what she was thinking at that moment, but he'd deal with that later.

"No choice, Captain. You okay? Can you walk?"

Carter nodded yes. She jumped out of the bed as if it had bitten her and retrieved her long sleeve BDU shirt from the floor. She crouched down by the last man Jack had killed, and removed the knife from his belt. He took the knives from the belts of the other two men, tucked one into his belt behind his back, and handed the other to Carter. She copied him and tucked it into her own belt behind her back.

"Let's move out," Jack whispered.

Carter nodded and followed him out of the cell, not sparing a glance back at her dead assailants.

As they made their way to the next cell, Jack asked her, "So, any idea what the hell we're doing on this planet or why these bozos kidnapped us and decided to introduce us to their own personal version of Club Med?"

Carter had started to answer when they reached the next cell. Jack put a finger to his lips and she immediately closed her mouth. Jack undid the rope lock. He used his fingers to count to three then slowly opened the door. Carter entered behind him just as quietly. Like his own cell, this one had no furniture at all. Even with only the pale moonlight that came in through the windows, they could tell the cell was empty.

"Who the hell bothers to lock the door to an empty room?" he muttered as he turned towards Carter and the door.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Beats me, sir. Maybe they do it to keep the kids from playing around in here. Or to keep people guessing if they come to rescue someone who'd been kidnapped."

Jack nodded in agreement and left the cell, Carter right behind him. In a low voice, she told him what she remembered. "I don't remember actually coming through the gate, sir. I just remember we were talking to a man when arrows suddenly started flying all over the place. You ordered us back through the gate. Someone tackled Daniel, so I went to help him. Daniel dialed out. We were running towards the gate when I heard you yell. I turned to see if you needed help, and then it was lights out." She hesitated then added, "I don't know if Daniel and Teal'c made it home."

By the time she had finished, they had reached the next cell. They repeated the process from the last cell, which had an unexpected surprise. Tied to the bed was the body of a young woman.

Jack approached slowly and checked for a pulse. His jaw clenched and he tightened his grip on the knife in barely contained rage. She was dead. It was clear, now that he was close to her, that her neck had been snapped. Judging by the condition of her body, he guessed that she'd been dead a day, maybe two, and that she'd been beaten and raped before she'd been killed. He was sure she wasn't more than twenty years old.

"Too late for her," he whispered to Carter.

She nodded, staying quiet as she attempted to keep her own emotions in check, and followed him outside again. As they headed towards the next cell, she suddenly noticed his limp. "Sir, your leg, you were injured."

"It's fine, Captain."

She squinted as she looked closely at his leg, and noticed the makeshift bandage. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He stopped and looked at her. "But, sir, your leg is. . . ."

"Fine! Now move your ass, _Captain_!" He barked more harshly than he'd intended. She flinched.

Without waiting for her to respond, he turned and headed for the closest cell. He didn't turn back to look, but he was certain she followed. As they reached the cell, he saw that she was. Again, Jack undid the rope lock and entered the cell first. This one also had a bed, but, thankfully, it was empty.

They checked three more cells, both remaining silent. Jack was intent on searching all the cells to look for Teal'c and Daniel before their captors discovered that he and Carter had escaped, or before first light. Whichever came first.

There were more cells than Jack had first thought there would be. Soon, there were only four left. He was beginning to get a little anxious. He wasn't sure if the fact that they had yet to find Daniel and Teal'c was a good thing or a bad one.

The next cell in line also had a light flickering in it. As they entered the cell, they both stopped short. Daniel was lying on the floor in the corner. There was blood on the side of his face and he wasn't moving.

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PART 5

Jack rushed to Daniel's side with Carter right behind him. He grimaced as he kneeled next to Daniel, causing the pain in his leg to flare. He watched as Carter felt for a pulse.

"Steady pulse, sir. He's just unconscious."

Daniel groaned as Carter touched the wound on his temple.

"Come on, Daniel, wakey wakey." Jack whispered as he touched his friend's shoulder.

Daniel's eyes fluttered open. "Jack? Sam?"

"It's us. Can you sit up?" When Daniel slowly nodded yes to his question, Jack helped him sit up and lean back against the wall.

While Carter checked Daniel's vision, Jack got up and went to the door to watch their backs. He could hear Carter speak softly to Daniel and although he couldn't make out the words, he had a good idea of what she was saying to him. After their little mishap that landed them in Antarctica, Carter had taken it upon herself to take a more advanced field medical training course than that which she had previously taken. He'd been proud of her initiative. Of course, that hadn't stopped him from teasing her about the splint she'd put on his leg.

After a few minutes, he turned back towards his teammates. "Carter?"

"He's fine, sir. They were questioning him, but they didn't like his answers so they hit him in the head. I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a concussion, but I wouldn't rule out the possibility that he does have one."

"He understands their grunting?" Jack held up his hand to stave Carter off. "Never mind, tell me the rest later. Get him on his feet. I don't know how much longer we'll have the cover of night, and I want to check these last three cells, find Teal'c, and get the hell out of Dodge before the natives wake up. I get the distinct impression these guys are not the friendly, sit and talk over tea and cookies, kinda people."

Jack turned around. He moved to help Carter get Daniel up, but Daniel waved him off. "I'm fine, Jack. Just a little headache."

Jack nodded. "Good. Move out. Carter, cover our six."

Carter nodded sharply.

There was a hidden message in that order that Jack knew she'd pick up on. Keep an eye on Daniel.

Without another word, they made their way out of the cell and on to the next one. They made sure to keep low and quiet. That cell was also empty, though there were signs that it had recently been occupied. Jack tried not to think about who it had held and what had happened to her. He was sure it had been a female because the room had a bed and, from what he'd observed, only female prisoners seemed to get a bed. That was the impression he got anyway. The next cell was completely empty. Jack took a deep breath then opened the door to the last cell . . .

To another empty room.

Teal'c had either escaped through the Stargate or been killed. Jack _really_ didn't want to even consider that possibility. He chose to believe that Teal'c had escaped and was safe at the SGC, or waiting for an opportunity to help them.

A loud commotion caught Jack's attention. He peeked outside and saw several men running towards the cell Carter had been kept in.

"Crap!" Jack muttered. They'd found the guard he'd killed in his cell. In a matter of seconds, they'd find the three in Carter's cell. "Let's move."

Jack exited the cell, with Daniel and Carter close behind, and made his way towards the forest. They were close to it when he heard an arrow whistle past his ear. Another snagged his shirt as it passed his left arm. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to turn and fight, but with Daniel unarmed, and he and Carter having only two knives apiece, it would be suicidal. Besides, it was also possible that Teal'c was in the forest, injured and alone.

They reached the forest in minutes, but continued to run as fast as the uneven forest floor would allow. Jack slowed his pace slightly every few minutes to glance behind him. He trusted Carter implicitly to cover their sixes, but he had to make sure they where still there. After what seemed like an eternity, he was fairly confident they had lost their captors and signaled the others to stop. They did so and walked up beside him, gasping.

"We need to rest," Jack said quietly. The others nodded. "Carter, check Daniel over."

She nodded. Jack knew she would know he wasn't questioning her competency from when she'd first checked Daniel over, she just hadn't had to time to do more than a cursory exam.

Daniel protested. "I'm fine, Jack. Just a little bump on the head, is all."

A hard glare from Jack silenced him and he sat down wordlessly, allowing Carter to examine him.

When she finished checking Daniel, she approached Jack. "He's fine, sir. He's got a nasty little cut near the hairline, a monster headache, and some bruising to his abdominal area. One of the arrows grazed his side, but it's just a scratch really, just a little bit a blood." She hesitated then added, "Sir, I need to check your leg."

Jack thought about waving her off, denying anything was wrong, but he knew that, in their current predicament, that would be stupid. He could do it himself, as he had been doing, but he was just too damn tired. And he hurt. A lot. The aches and pains he'd ignored earlier were now making their presence known again.

"Daniel." When Daniel looked up, Jack pulled the knife from his belt and handed it to him. Jack was pleased that Daniel accepted it wordlessly and without hesitation and stood up. He was on guard duty while Carter checked Jack out.

Without another word, Jack lowered himself painfully to the ground, his battered body protesting every move. Carter kneeled down beside him and removed the makeshift bandage. She winced as she examined the wound. Jack didn't bother looking. He knew an infection had to be starting by then, and had a pretty good idea what it must look like. His leg spasmed a bit as she gently prodded around the wound.

"Right pocket."

Carter looked at him blankly for just a second before catching on. She pulled out the shirt strips and re-bandaged his leg. She checked his left leg over before moving on to his abdomen and chest. He winced when she hit the sore spot on his left side. She paused and looked Jack in the eyes. He nodded and she continued her exam. He winced again when she hit the sore spot on his right arm. He saw the blood on her hand. Apparently, one of the arrows had grazed his arm. Carter used the remaining strips of his BDU shirt to bandage his arm.

"Your leg is infected, but I'm sure you know that already. I don't think anything is broken, but it's hard to tell, could just be deep bruising. You have a cut beside your right eye, but it doesn't look too deep. You have a lovely shiner, and your cheek is bruised. I'm pretty sure you have a concussion. I don't think it's too bad, but the sooner we get you back to the SGC and into Janet's care, the better." She smiled as she added, "Basically, sir, the right side of your face is doing a pretty good impression of a raccoon."

Jack smiled at her and nodded. "I'm sure it is, Captain."

Then he was serious again. "What about you?"

I'm fine, sir. I've got a minor headache and I think I sprained my wrist when I was . . ." Her voice trailed off and Jack knew she was thinking about the attack in her cell. She shook her head and added, "I'm fine."

Jack stared into her eyes for a second. Physically she might be okay, but he knew she was far from "fine". Her eyes were clear and determined though, so he let it slide. He made a mental note to make sure she talked to someone when they got back to the SGC. Maybe not McKenzie, but someone. Maybe Fraiser. Carter and the good doctor seemed to have hit it off pretty well. He found a descent sized rock nearby and moved himself over to it. It was extremely uncomfortable, but it'd be easier to get up from the rock than it would from the ground if they had to move fast.

"Daniel." When Daniel looked at him, Jack continued, "You understood those people."

Daniel moved closer to Jack. "For the most part. Their language is very similar to the Bernackas tribe's native language. I'm not sure why they didn't seem to understand English, or not much of it anyway, when the Bernackas' seem to have a pretty good grasp of it."

Jack looked at him blankly. "The who?"

The Bernackas tribe, Jack. The people we came here to meet with. Again."

Jack was silent a moment then said, "Nope, got nothing. Carter?"

"Me either, sir." She looked at Daniel. "We both were hit with a dart laced with some kind of drug. Our memories are still a little foggy right now."

Daniel sighed. "We were here about two weeks ago. We met one of the indigenous tribes here. They are fairly primitive, but have grasped some more advanced principles such as fire, running water, etcetera. It's really quite fascinating, Jack. The methods they . . ."

"Daniel." Jack barked, cutting off the archeologist's ramble before it could start. He waived his arms in a "get on with it" motion.

Daniel glowered but moved on. "There's an area close to the village where the soil is rich in naquadah. The chief, Targan, is willing to trade the naquadah for medical supplies and someone to come here and teach them our farming methods, and to bring seeds for crops that aren't indigenous to this planet. This is our second trip here. The Goa'uld haven't been here for over three hundred years, but there are still some temples around. Teal'c and I were going to check them out while you and Sam continued the negotiations with Targan."

Jack interrupted again. "Wait a minute. That's SG-9's job. Major Kovacek should be handling negotiations. He's the diplomatic type, not me. Why the hell are we here instead of them?" In fact, he was glad they weren't here. The Major was a good officer and negotiator, but combat tactics weren't his forte.

"You really don't remember much at all do you, Jack?"

Jack gave Daniel his best "no duh" look and said, "Ya think?"

Daniel sighed. "You hit it off pretty well with Chief Targan. When you told him SG-9 would be coming back to finalize the deal, he insisted it be you. There were some things he wanted to show you, something about some fishing spot or something." He waved his arms in the air. "Anyway, you agreed, so here we are."

Jack was silent as he thought about what Daniel had told them. It was still pretty fuzzy, but he was starting to remember more. He vaguely recalled talking to a man just shorter than himself with long, gray hair, and a funny looking walking stick. He assumed that had been Targan. Jack had liked the man almost from the start. He had the weathered face and hands of a man who was not afraid of hard work, and the wary eyes of a leader who had seen many battles. They had talked about fishing. It was coming back to him. He remembered talking to the chief about love, life, battles won and lost, and loss. The chief had also lost one of his children to a tragic accident that he blamed himself for.

"I remember most of the original trip now, but what the hell happened? The last thing I remember clearly from this trip was coming through the gate, and then all hell breaking loose."

"Two days after we got back to the SGC, General Hammond authorized us to come back and complete the negotiations and explore the temples. Before we left the first time, we had told Targan to come back to the gate and we'd send a message to let him know what was going on. We left the MALP and a radio and showed him how to use it. He was there, waiting for us when we came back. We had just started heading towards his village when we were attacked by the Kritchen, the rival tribe of the Bernackas."

"So how come you remember all this and we don't?" Carter asked, taking advantage of Daniel's pause.

"I didn't get hit with a dart. After you helped me with the guy who tackled me, I made it to the DHD and dialed out. I was running towards the gate when I heard you call out. I turned to see if you needed help when another Kritchen came at me with a knife. I managed to get it away from him, but he landed a pretty good left hook that had me seeing stars. Before I realized what was happening, he had me tied up. I could see Teal'c not far from where I was. He had two arrows sticking out of his chest. I don't know if he's dead or not." Daniel couldn't keep the sadness out of his eyes or his voice.

Jack prayed that the snake in his alien friend's gut done its job and kept him alive. He had to believe it. The alternative was unacceptable.

Daniel started to tell them more. "I saw . . ."

Jack and Carter tensed at the same time and motioned Daniel to be quiet. Jack scrambled up off the rock and scanned the forest. He'd heard something. A movement caught his eye and he muttered a curse. *Damn it! Fucking idiot* Jack admonished himself. He'd let them stay in one place for too long and they'd been found. He motioned to Carter and Daniel to indicate where he saw the movement. They'd positioned themselves for an ambush when a familiar voice rang out.

"O'Neill?"

Jack, Carter, and Daniel watched as Teal'c, followed by several of the Bernackas tribe warriors, came into view. Their eyes widened in surprise, and they smiled broadly.

"Teal'c!"

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PART 6

"It is I, O'Neill.

"I knew those bastards couldn't have killed you so easy," Jack said as he limped towards his friend, smiling.

"Indeed they could not."

Jack slapped Teal'c on the shoulder. Then he thought of something. "We need to get moving. The guys who attacked us are probably hot one our tails, so we really need to get a move on."

One of the Bernackas warriors stepped forward. Jack immediately recognized him. "Targan. Good to see you're okay."

Targan nodded to Jack. "I am pleased you are well, my friend."

"For the most part. We really do need to get going."

"Do not worry, Jack. My warriors will take care of them. They do not dare come this far into the forest. They still believe in the false gods who ruled our planet many generations ago. The false gods taught them to fear the forest, though it has never been clear to us why. They generally take the longer path around the outer edge of the forest when they decide to attack. You are safe now."

Jack nodded. He'd seen Targan's troops in action. Sure, it had only been in training, but he could tell they were skilled fighters and he had no doubt about their abilities. "So, what the hell was that all about? Who were those people and why did they attack us?"

Targan sighed. "They are the Kritchen. They raid our village and steal our women and children. This last attack was the first in many seasons. We have been at war for a very long time. It is believed that, at one time, our two tribes were one. When the evil false god was defeated, some of our number were not pleased. They believed that he truly was a god and were angry. They left the village and formed their own where they still worship the false god to this day. The Kritchen believe that you came here to assist us in wiping them out." Targan held up his hand to silence Jack. "We captured one of their warriors after the attack, and questioned him."

Jack didn't ask what they did with their prisoner. He really didn't give a damn. *Lesson learned. Next time, inquire about any possible hostiles in the area before making nice with the natives.*

Teal'c took over telling the story. "Chief Targan and his men took me back to their village. Their healer removed the arrows and bandaged my wounds. My symbiote healed my wounds within hours. Once I had sufficiently recovered, Chief Targan organized his warriors. Our mission is two-fold, to rescue you and to find three young women who are missing. There was no fight at the village. The women were gathering wood in the forest. We do not know if they were taken by the Kritchen warriors, or if they simply got lost."

Jack stopped smiling. "Describe them."

Jack's face turned grim as he listened to Targan's descriptions of the missing women. One of the girls was definitely the dead girl he and Carter had found. "I'm sorry, Targan. We found a dead woman in one the prison cells who matches the description of one of your missing women." He didn't go into detail. They didn't need to know what had been done to her, although he was sure they had a pretty good idea anyway.

Targan nodded sadly. "The other two?"

Jack shook his head. "We only saw the one. I don't know about the other two. I'm sorry."

"It is not your fault, O'Neill. We do not blame you. It is I who should apologize. We should have told you about the Kritchen sooner. You could have been prepared for a possible attack and better prepared yourself."

Jack suddenly felt dizzy and put a hand on Teal'c's shoulder to steady himself.

Targan looked at him with concern. He looked Jack over and finally noticed the bloody bandages on his leg and arm. "You are injured."

"Just a scratch," Jack said as removed his hand from his friend's shoulder. "But we really do need to get home. If I'm not mistaken, it's at least a ten hour hike to the Stargate from here." Jack did the math in his head. They had three days before they had to check in with Hammond. They were ten hours from the Stargate; he had no idea how long he, Carter, and Daniel had been held prisoner before he'd come to, but he was there at least a day afterwards, and then ten hours back to the gate. That would cut awfully close to their check-in time if he wasn't mistaken. "Hammond will be expecting our report soon. He gets a might bit tetchy when we're late."

Teal'c looked at his watch. "O'Neill is correct. Our scheduled check-in is in ten hours, thirty-one minutes from now. General Hammond will not be pleased if we are late."

After taking a few minutes to get a drink and to eat, they headed back towards the 'gate with Jack and Targan taking point.

After a few minutes, Jack stopped. "Crap! They took all our gear. We don't have a GDO. No GDO, Hammond won't open the iris." He turned towards his teammates. "Teal'c, buddy, _please_ tell me you still have yours."

Teal'c bowed his head slightly then pulled the object in question from a pocket on his shirt. "Indeed."

Jack sighed in relief and they started back towards the 'gate again.

By the time they were about half way there, Jack was seriously running out of steam. He cursed as his boot caught on a large tree root and he stumbled to his knees. He said nothing as Teal'c came up beside him and put Jack's arm around his shoulder. By the time the Stargate came into sight, Jack could barely stand, even with his friend's help. He refused to be carried though, so he had walked without complaint.

A few minutes later they were finally at the 'gate. Jack glanced around at his team, Teal'c seemed none the worse for wear, Daniel was pale but steady on his feet, and Carter looked exhausted. He didn't even want to know what he looked like.

"Jack, I hope this ordeal will not change your mind about an agreement between our two peoples."

Jack extended his hand. "None of this was your fault, Targan. You still didn't know us that well when we first left and agreed to come back, and from what you told me, there was no indication the Kritchen would attack us like they did. It was just bad luck for us that they decided to do it when they did. We'll talk to Hammond about coming back again. I don't think he'll have a problem with it."

Targan took Jack's hand and the two men shook. "Besides, Jack added, smiling broadly, "you still owe me a fishing trip."

Jack turned to face his teammates. "Daniel, dial it up. Let's go home, people."

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Jack was locked in a glaring contest, and a verbal battle, with the diminutive doctor standing before him. Neither was willing to budge.

"There's no reason I can't rest at home, Doc. At least I can be comfortable there." Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "And I can watch hockey."

"I will not tell you again, Colonel, you are staying here for at least the next 48 hours. Your body has been through a lot in the last few days and you need time to recover. You just got out of the surgery to repair the damage to your leg not even four hours ago, you needed a transfusion to replace the blood you'd lost, you have an infection that will require strong antibiotics for the next few days, and you have a slight concussion. Oh, and let's not forget the bruised ribs and various other cuts and bruises." She held up her hand to silence his argument. "I know what your idea of rest is, sir. I also know that, while you will take antibiotic pills, you won't take your pain pills unless one of your team members practically shoves them down your throat. My decision is final and if you continue to badger me I will make sure your next pre-mission exam includes a shot with the biggest needle I can find."

"You wouldn't dare." His eyes narrowed at the needle remark. He hated needles, even more than he hated those damn penlights. They brought back too many memories he'd much rather leave buried.

"Would you really like to test that theory, sir?"

The evil look on her face stalled Jack's next comment. He thought about it for a minute. She'd do it. Of that he had no doubt. "Fine," he grumped.

Janet threw him a bone. "I'll make you a deal. You go the next two hours without aggravating, or in _any_ way annoying my staff, and I'll see what I can do about getting a TV and VCR brought in for you. How's that sound?"

Jack, still looking very much like a petulant child, eyed the doctor suspiciously, looking for any sign of deceit. "Hockey tapes?"

"If that's what you want. Deal?"

Jack relented. "Deal."

"Now, if you're done pouting, there are three very worried people who'd like to see you."

That made Jack smile. "Sicking the kids on me, Doc?"

"Whatever works, sir," she said with a smile that lit her eyes. "Should I let them in?"

"Yeahsureyoubetcha."

Janet left the infirmary. A few minutes later, the members of SG-1 filed in and took up what was becoming their customary positions around Jack's bed. "Watch out for her. She's evil I tell you, E. V. I. L., _evil_."

Obviously knowing their friend was only teasing, they let the comment go without remark.

"How do you feel, Jack?" Daniel asked.

"Like I've been used as a human pin cushion. Damn doctors and nurses and their big honkin' needles." He put up his hands, about four inches apart, to indicate the size of the needles. "That woman threatened me too."

Carter giggled and added, "You probably deserved it."

"Carter, you do remember who writes your evals, don't you? And what have I told you about giggling?"

She suppressed another giggle. "Yes, sir."

Jack tried to stifle a yawn. He was tired, but he didn't want to sleep. Just at that moment, Janet came back into the infirmary.

"Alright, time's up. The colonel needs to rest and all three of you need to do the same."

"Goodnight, Jack."

"I will return shortly, O'Neill."

"Later, guys." Jack knew that the Doc would let Teal'c return to sit with him for a while. She usually didn't mind if one of his friends sat with him.

"Janet, can I have a few minutes, please? I need to discuss something with the colonel."

Janet looked at her watch. "Five minutes, Sam. I'm timing you."

"Thanks." She watched the doctor go into her office before turning back to her commanding officer. She looked down at her hands as she started to speak. "I've been thinking about what happened back there, sir. Specifically when those guys tried to . . . when they . . . uhh . . ." She hesitated, unable to say the word. "When they attacked me. I just wanted to say thanks." She stopped and looked at him. When he didn't say anything, she continued. "When you killed them and I . . . and I looked at you the way I did, I wasn't judging you, sir. I was just shocked. I mean, even with what you showed us in training, I didn't realize you could move like that. Guess I should have."

Jack continued to stare at her, not saying a word. He wasn't really sure how to respond. A thoughtful look came over Carter's face and then turned to surprise.

"I can't believe I forgot. You were in the Special Forces."

Jack studied her face; there was no sign of recrimination there, just curiosity. "Yeah."

"How long?"

"About ten years. I got out just before . . . before Charlie . . . died."

Jack knew by the look on Carter's face that she was tempted to ask him more, though he wasn't sure if it would be about his special ops days or Charlie. He didn't want to talk about either. He was relieved when she simply said, "Well, I just wanted to say thanks." She glanced at her watch. "Guess I'd better go before Janet kicks me out. Come to think of it, I am getting hungry. Would you like me to bring you anything later, sir?"

"Pizza and beer."

"I don't think so, sir," came a response from the office.

"How the hell does she do that?"

"Beats me." Carter shrugged. She turned to leave then stopped and turned back toward her friend. "You're not like him, sir."

"Huh?" Jack said, feigning ignorance. He looked down and fiddled with his sheet then looked at her and smiled.

"Good night, sir."

Jack watched as Carter turned and left. When she reached the door he called out to her. "Captain."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "Yes, sir?"

"Thanks."

Carter smiled and nodded then turned and left the infirmary.

Jack smoothed out his sheet and sighed. His second didn't think he was a cold-hearted murderer, his team all made it home safe and sound, his leg would heal with time, and, until the next time they walked through that shimmering puddle, everything was right with the world. Or at least, with his little part of it anyway.

For the time being, that was good enough for him.

_THE END_

Plot Bunny:

Jack wakes in a cell/room/cave with no idea how he got there. The rest of the team is gone. No weapons, no gear, nothing is in there but Jack and his uniform. The last thing he recalls is walking through the Stargate. Turns out SG-1 is on a planet (make one up! tag, you're it) and got captured by enemies of the people they were supposed to be meeting. Jack, as leader, was separated from the others. He has to escape, get some weapons and a GDO, find and rescue the team, and get back to the Stargate, all before they're executed as enemies of the tribe of people who captured them.

As he goes though the motions of escape and rescue, he remembers who, what, why, etc., of capture and mission. (This is up to you. Anything goes.) For example, this can be in flashback or as he rescues each of the others and compares notes with them.

Want - Jack must have no clue what's going on when he wakes and it can't come back in one great big chunk – I want whumpy angst. They must either be walking through the Stargate or at SGC before end.

Suggestions - an early season would be better as they would be more experienced and aware of possible problems like two warring tribes on the same planet as we've seen in later seasons. Also a good time for the team to find out about some of the Special Ops skills Jack has learned throughout the years as he rescues them all.


End file.
